Paul Batura: A man unable to read and write taught valuable lessons to generations of students and teachers
{{#rendered}} {{/rendered}}He was known to the world simply as Radio, a gentle, tender and fun-loving fixture on the football and basketball sidelines and inside the halls of T.L. Hanna High School in Anderson, South Carolina.
James Robert Kennedy’s death earlier Dec. 15 at the age of 73 closes the book on a moving story of a man with developmental disabilities that began in the warm southern autumn of 1964.
Made famous by Cuba Gooding Jr. – who played Radio in the 2003 film by the same name – Kennedy began hanging around T.L. Hanna High’s football field and was soon invited by coaches to participate in various activities of the school.
{{#rendered}} {{/rendered}}SOUTH CAROLINA'S JAMES KENNEDY, INSPIRATION FOR MOVIE 'RADIO,' DIES AT 73
Walter Mayfield, the school’s current principal, first met Kennedy as a student 43 years ago.
“Radio never had a bad day,” he told me. “If he could be at Hanna, he was happy. He loved everybody, always giving out hugs and high-fives.”
{{#rendered}} {{/rendered}}In an era of bullies and bad news and schools that regularly have to navigate crime and caustic kids, what was this man’s secret, and why did everyone get along well?
CLICK HERE TO GET THE OPINION NEWSLETTER
“It was the way he treated people,” Mayfield said. “Because he accepted everybody, everybody accepted him. He’s taught me so much about being a better person. If we all lived like Radio, what a better place the world would be.”
{{#rendered}} {{/rendered}}Mayfield learned these lessons from a man who never learned to read or write and whose signature consisted of loops and swirls.
Hanna’s favorite citizen had been struggling of late, beset by a series of health problems stemming from diabetes, prostate cancer and kidney failure. Yet in recent years he was still seen in the school, aided by a wheelchair but still propelled by his wide smile.
Sheila Hilton, who joined Hanna’s staff in 1975 as an English teacher and rose to the role of principal before retiring, said Radio was the epitome of a positive attitude.
{{#rendered}} {{/rendered}}“He had no money, no power and lived most of his life in poverty,” she told me. “But what he had inside was a loving, kind heart that exuded wherever he went. People who helped thought they were helping him – but we wound up being much more blessed in return.”
Hollywood tends to glamorize and fictionalize stories for the big screen, and surely there were liberties taken in Gooding’s wonderful portrayal of Kennedy’s innocent and endearing life. Yet, it’s clear that the man and the movie were closely aligned with an overarching theme that rings and remains true – every life is valuable and worthy of dignity, honor and respect.
It’s hard not to ponder the life and legacy of a man like James Kennedy and not conclude the world needs more of his attitude, especially now in our nation’s history.
{{#rendered}} {{/rendered}}As we close out the last year of the first decade of the 21st century, partisan rancor and general antagonism rage red hot – on both sides of the aisle – and from sea to shining sea.
At the same time, the nation is economically thriving – a contrast that underscores the fact that money – long considered a key to happiness – can just as easily make you miserable if your priorities are misaligned.
Skeptics and cynics will suggest Radio’s mental disability shielded him from the real world – but I don’t think so. I think Kennedy found the secret many search their whole lives for.
{{#rendered}} {{/rendered}}Kennedy’s nickname stemmed from the fact he used to carry a transistor radio around to keep him company. With the advent of the Walkman in the 1980s, he switched to a small tape deck and was known to listen to hours and hours of sermons from his local pastor, the Rev. Williams.
When asked about the tapes and the positive messages that filled his soul, Radio would reply, “He could set his church on fire!”
In recent weeks, as Kennedy’s health began to deteriorate and his energy faded, the Hanna High booster began talking earnestly about meeting his mother again in heaven.
{{#rendered}} {{/rendered}}“Even though he always just wears T-shirts and polo shirts, he began asking about his suit,” Hilton said. “He kept asking if his suit was ready. Is the suit ready? He wanted to look good for his mother, whom he deeply loved.”
James Kennedy laid in state in his best suit Friday inside the school he loved. His favorite pastor preached at his funeral Saturday at Anderson’s Civic Center to a large crowd.
It seems fitting that Radio should leave this world for the next at Christmastime, a holiday he loved – especially when ringing a bell for the Salvation Army’s Red Kettle campaign.
{{#rendered}} {{/rendered}}CLICK HERE TO GET THE FOX NEWS APP
The poet John Donne famously wrote in 1624: “No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main … any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore, never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”
Kennedy rang both the physical and the proverbial bell all his 73 years and his death diminishes us all – especially those within the T.L. Hanna High School community.
{{#rendered}} {{/rendered}}